


A Sticky Situation

by mariposaroja



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Dani isn't much better, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Marc being Marc as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 15:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13079835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariposaroja/pseuds/mariposaroja
Summary: Based on the prompts "Stop taking pictures! I'm stuck! For once be useful and HELP ME!", "I'm NOT buying Ikea furniture again!".Hope you like, Fluffypenguinpower! And happy Christmas ♥





	A Sticky Situation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fluffypenguinpower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffypenguinpower/gifts).



“Where’s the remote?”

Rolling his eyes, Marc gives a little shrug, eyes not leaving the TV. “Don’t know, you had it.”

“I didn’t have it, you had it.”

“You definitely-“

“Would you just stop arguing and help me find it? I'll need subtitles to be able get what they’re saying this way,” Dani spots the smirk on the younger man’s face and he can just _tell_ what’s going to come next, “And it’s _not_ because I’m getting old, asshole. You’re so predictable.” Regardless of that, Marc still cackles, even if he does actually move his ass and start to rummage through the covers, searching for the ever-elusive remote.

“It’s your fault, if you hadn’t insisted on buying the tv with the fucking _microscopic_ remote then we wouldn’t spend most of our time looking for it. Do you think it might have fallen down behind the bed?”

Ignoring that, Dani decides to test that theory and climbs down onto the floor, lying flat on his stomach so he can see right through. Sure enough, there it is; lying right smack bang in the middle and completely out of reach. “Yeah, I can see it. I might have to army crawl in to retrieve it though…”

Dangling over the side of the bed, Marc gives a little ‘aha!’ when he spots it, pulling himself back up again. “No need. I’ll just stick my hand down the back and get it. It will take two seconds.”

_Oh god._ “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I can just get it here, I’m already on the floor.”

“No, I got it!” Without another thought, the younger man pushes his hand through the gap in the headboard, lowering it until his shoulder is pressed against the wood and he can feel plastic beneath the tips of his fingers. It takes a moment of pushing it around but he finally grasps it, grinning triumphantly as he goes to bring it back up. That smile is wiped off his face, however, when he finds that he can’t; he’s stuck. His arm may have gone down but it certainly isn’t coming back up again, no matter how much he wiggles it. “Dani…”

“What?” Dani pulls himself back up onto the bed again, “You got it?”

“I got it but I’m stuck!”

“Very funny, Marc. Come on, I was really enjoying that and I don’t want to miss any more.”

“Dani, I can’t! I’m fucking _stuck_! What part of ‘stuck’ don’t you understand? Oh my god I’m going to lose my arm and I’m never going to ride a motorcycle again,” his breathing becomes shallow as he descends into full-blown panic mode, pulling the slats in a futile attempt to make them budge an inch or two.

“It’s okay, Luke Skywalker got on okay after Darth Vader cut his off,” he says, though he has absolutely no idea why and the absolutely deathly glare he receives from his other half tells him that, yes, that was about as stupid a thing to say as he thought.

“ _Not. Fucking. Helping.”_

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be _sorry_ , do something!”

Part of him wants to remind Marc that he told him from the beginning that this wasn’t a good idea but the more sensible part of him reminds him that, if he does, he’ll probably sleeping in the back garden tonight. _Although if Marc is still stuck there’s not much he can do about it…_ Still, he realises that the younger man, in his panic, might do some damage to that arm and he really doesn’t want to be the one to tell Livio that his star rider injured himself searching for a remote…

“Okay just hold still for a minute while I try think of the best way to approach this.” Marc, to his credit, does just that and Dani appraises the situation, placing his hand on the other man’s shoulder to see if there’s any leeway for him to pull it out. There isn’t. Like Marc, he then tries to pull the slats apart, thinking that having to buy a new headboard would be a much better alternative to his boyfriend remaining stuck. They don’t move an inch and Dani never thought he would be cursing the sturdiness of IKEA furniture but here he is… “Right, well you’re quite stuck to be honest.”

_Are you fucking kidding me??_ “Yeah, thanks for that, Sherlock. Is that all? Or are you actually going to be of some help?”

“I’m trying!”

“No you’re not!! At all!”

“Let’s not fight, okay? It’s not going to make the situation any better.”

“Then fucking _do_ something!”

Running out of ideas, Dani tries to wrack his brain for a possible solution that doesn’t involve amputation. “Er, I think I saw a programme years where this guy got his head stuck in a gate or something and they used butter to get him out.”

“Do it.”

He’s just about to dart down to the kitchen when his eyes fall on the bedside locker and he has a better idea… Opening the drawer, he pulls out the bottle and Marc makes a face at him that says ‘ _Really??_ ’ but doesn’t complain. Beggars can’t be choosers…

And so that’s how that’s how Dani ends up massaging generous amounts of lube into Marc’s arm and shoulder, praying that it will work so he won’t have to go scour the house for a saw of some kind. The whole bottle is almost emptied by the time Dani is confident enough to give it a try, afraid to be in close proximity to Marc if it doesn’t work, who will then be sticky, cold _and_ stuck. Closing his eyes, he says a silent prayer before asking the younger man if he’s ready (he is, unsurprisingly). It’s hard to get a grip on Marc’s probably overly slippery shoulder but he finally manages it, pulling his arm from the wood like Arthur pulling the sword from the stone.

“Aha!” His triumphant grin is completely lost on Marc who looks like he’s seen a ghost, colour almost completely drained from his face. He clutches his arm, as if just to make sure that it’s still safely attached. “I’m going to get a new remote tomorrow…”

 

 


End file.
